


Acceptance

by orphan_account



Series: RT Hybrid Story [4]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Hybrid AU, Illness, Mentions of Stalking, PTSD, Panic Attacks, hybrid au x, mentions of trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-09 22:56:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3267464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t like before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Acceptance

“As we enter the fifth week since the requirement date of being vaccinated, it is estimated that 99% of Americans are infected, and at least 25% of the population has succumbed to the illness. What scientists originally called a viral hemorrhagic fever has become an epidemic that will only continue to take lives as hospitals shut down due to infected staff members being unable to provide care. The UN has stated that they will be offering support in any possible, but thus far, no action has been taken to alleviate the impact of the illness. If you are hearing this, please spend time with the people you love and pray. Thank you.”

\--

“Damn. That’s the last of the canned pineapple.”

“Thank fucking Christ! I thought we would never run out!” Burnie pumps his fist in the air a couple of times.

“You got something against pineapples, Burns?” Griffon challenges, staring at him with raised eyebrows.

“They’re the most disgusting of the citrus fruit.”

“Hey, no citrus discrimination in my prep tent, asshole!” Gus calls. Burnie rolls his eyes and gets back to slicing wild potatoes.

It had been five weeks. The first week was spent going to Portland, collecting the only eight people still alive among a sea of bodies littering the streets, and driving out into the wilderness until something suitably far away but still relatively close to society popped up. Their camp consisted of forty RT staff members and sixteen tents, all split into various uses. Everyone chipped in for the food they brought with them, but it wasn’t exactly difficult math to know that they would run out eventually. Eventually, they’ll have to start rationing and sending out hunting parties.

Which no one particularly wants to do. Given how they are all part animal, killing another animal just seems... Wrong, somehow. Or, at least, it does to Griffon. Being a hawk hybrid, she certainly experiences her fair share of urges to hunt, but the thought of actually following through with them has always tasted bitter on her tongue.

Speaking of being a hawk hybrid.

Ray is assigned to the cooking tent today, and it is beyond obvious to Griffon that he is doing any and everything in his power to avoid being near her. Every time she checks on him, he’s twitchy and quiet, and every time he sees her approaching, he jumps. She isn’t sure exactly what happened to him back in Portland- Geoff heard from Michael that they found him covered in blood that wasn’t his, but that’s all he knew- but it’s really fucking up any kind of a relationship they would be having now.

Normally, this wouldn’t bother her all that much; she’s a bit of a social butterfly, and one person avoiding her without telling her what the damn problem is turns out as no skin off her back. But now, there are only a small amount of people in her life, and to have one of them blatantly and consistently act like she’s their kryptonite is leaving a pit in her stomach that has been driving her crazy.

She decides with a sense of finality that she’ll confront him after lunch as she dumps the pineapples into a serving bowl.

\--

“Alright, Ray. It’s been weeks now. What’s the deal?”

Oh no. Oh no no no no no no no no no, Griffon cannot ask him about this, he is not ready to talk about it. Not now. Probably not ever. No. He can just forget it ever happened, stop thinking about it, go back to being a functional human being; but he can hear the finality in her tone, and he’s certain she can hear how his heart is picking up. He’s not escaping this conversation any longer.

“I... I can’t,” he chokes out, shaking his head and backing up. But they’re alone in the cooking tent, setting the vessels out for cleaning, and he hears the gentle flapping of the tent canvas inches behind him.

To her credit, Griffon seems instantly aware of his discomfort, and she backs up a full couple of feet, leaving Ray some room to breathe. He takes a few steadying breaths, contemplating his options. She’s not going to let him leave this tent until she has an explanation. But he can’t... Talk about it. Not even to his best friends, let alone his boss’s wife with wings just like his-

-His stalker’s.

“Sweetie, you can. I know you can. You talk for a living; just let some of it out. It’s not your job to be in control all the time.”

She means well, he knows. But the words dig deep into him and anger surges forward instead of what he yearns for, and he finds himself boiling over with such a raw emotional response to those simple words that he can’t just keep it in any longer.

“No. I fucking cannot talk about this. Especially not with you. I’m never in control; isn’t that obvious? That fucking... He did so much, and I couldn’t even... I’ve just been dragging my feet for months, and everywhere I turn, you’re there and his looked just like yours, and I can’t... I can’t fucking do this! I can’t have my past shoved in my face like this anymore!”

The only indication that she was surprised was the slight raise of her eyebrows when he started shouting. She seems like she’s about to respond, but Ray isn’t quiet finished yet.

“Do not try to fucking give me some motherly bullshit about how he’s gone now and he can’t hurt me anymore. The damage is fucking done. Every goddamn day is a nightmare, and there’s only more pain as soon as I fall asleep.”

She stares at him for a few seconds, waiting patiently for him to continue. When he doesn’t, she says only one word:

“Gone?”

And Ray’s entire body goes cold.

Next thing he knows, he’s plummeted ass-first into the dirt. His breaths are coming in short, gasping bursts, and his heart feels like it’s going to rip its way out of his chest. His mind is locked on a primal need to escape, get the fuck out of here and never fucking come back, leave leave leave leave

He’s clutching his hair in a vice grip and all he can hear is the blood rushing violently through his body, so he doesn’t notice Griffon leave or Gavin enter. Not until the latter is sitting in front of him and very gently touching his knee to get his attention.

“I’m right here, Ray. I’m not going anywhere. Is it okay for me to touch you?”

He manages a shaky nod, and Gavin leans forward a bit to gently grip his hands.

“Is what’s bothering you here?”

Ray shakes his head.

“Okay. Do you need anything specific right now?”

Another shake of his head.

“That’s alright. I’m going to stay right here with you, then. No one else. Just us.”

Ray nods, lip trembling violently. Gavin gently guides his hands away from their lock in his hair and down to rest in his lap. Ray is instantly aware of the sharp stinging in his head, and the acute burning in his chest, which makes him hyperventilate more, which makes his chest burn more and his head hurt worse, and the cycle keeps going-

“Ray. Hey,” He forces himself to open his eyes and meet Gavin’s green gaze. “Breath with me, yeah? Let’s go in; 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and out, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...”

They breathe together for what could have been minutes or years.

Ray begins to shiver from something other than the shaking of panic, and Gavin’s wings wrap around him, flooding their shared space with heat. The other man has scooted forward so their knees are touching. Their hands are properly linked now, resting on Ray’s knees in a loose but comforting grip.

Eventually, Ray’s heart is slowed enough and he’s pretty sure he’s not going to die in the next thirty seconds, so he opens his eyes and clears his throat. Embarrassment creeps hotly up his neck. He shoves it down.

“I killed hawk guy.”

Gavin nods.

“He was going to rape me.”

Gavin hesitates, but nods once more.

“He had a gun, but I got it from him. I shot him. Over and over.”

He wants to say more, but when he tries to speak again, nothing comes out. After a few more failed tries, Ray just slumps forward and rests his head on Gavin’s chest. He releases one of Ray’s hands to sit on his back, holding him.

They sit like that long past sunset.

\--

On the fifth day of the fifth week, a strange man entered their camp. He seemed just as surprised to see them as they were to see him; it took a few seconds of silent gawking for the man to call something out in a foreign language- French?- And then five other similarly dressed men emerged from the trees, two holding first aid kits.

“Vous êtes tous d’accord?!” The first man called.

Yep. Definitely French.

Jack couldn’t remember much of his high school French classes, but he knew enough to start up a very basic conversation with the man, who appears to be the leader of the little group.

“Nous... ne sommes pas... malade.” He stutters. If he remembers correctly, he just told the man that none of them are sick.

His relieved expression makes him think he may be correct. The man says something in rapid-fire speech, and Jack shakes his head and asks the man to repeat himself, hoping he understands that he needs to speak slower.

“Nous sommes de France.” He says slowly. (We are from France.) “Nous arrivons à aider les Américains.” (We came to help the Americans.)

“Parlez-vous anglais?” Jack asks, after struggling to translate a few times. (Do you speak English?)

The man shakes his head, then says something to one of the other men. Then they all begin gesturing for Jack to come with them.

“Où?” He asks. (Where?)

The man thinks for a moment, then loudly declares, “Camp!”

Jack glances back at the others. Many of them just look confused, but Caiti quickly approaches him and links her arm in his. “What are they saying?”

“They’re French. Here to help the Americans. I think.”

“And they want you to go with them?”

“I think so?”

“Then let’s go.” She turns to the man and gives him a sharp affirmative nod. He smiles softly, then turns and starts leading the way into the forest. Jack begins to follow, but pauses when his guide stops and turns back in confusion.

He points at the rest of the group. “Tous,” he says. (All.)

“All?” He repeats in confusion. He turns to them again, and Geoff shrugs and throws his arm forward.

“Let’s go, dickheads.”

Everyone begins to shuffle forward with the call being made. The French man smiles once more and nods brightly, then continues walking into the forest.

\--

Apparently, ‘Camp’ meant complex medical facility.

Luckily, complex medical facility meant English speakers.

“We estimate that a quarter of this country’s population is dead,” the man in a long lab coat with Jean-Paul¬ stitched into it says.

“Yes, that’s what the radio report said the other day.”

“It would seem your vaccine did not function as intended?”

It doesn’t seem like a question until Jack realizes Jean-Paul is waiting for an answer. “Uh. No, it did not. Function as intended, that is.”

Apparently, by being the only person with even a little bit of French knowledge, Jack had been instantly labeled as the voice of their group. The French scientists had retrieved blood samples from everyone just to be certain no one was infected, but they said it was beyond likely that they would have noticed symptoms by now if they were. Not subtle ones, either; bloody sputum, blood leaking from every orifice including the eyeballs, and death. Hard to miss that sort of thing.

When all of the bloodwork came back negative, Jean-Paul came out to speak with Jack.

“Do you know how this happened?” He asks. Jack starts to shake his head, until he realizes that that’s not entirely true; he does know what happened. It’s just a matter of whether or not he’s willing to give Gavin away as the Patient Zero of this whole mess. They might try to experiment on him as the scientists in Portland had, and they would once again be defenseless to stop them. The scientists were guarded by the five explore teams that combed suspicious areas of land for survivors, as well as several beefy dudes carrying submachine guns and bearing the UN logo.

But they seemed to be intent on helping, and they had done nothing to prove themselves as suspicious... So Jack decides that it’s probably best to tell him.

“My friend was the first one to be a hybrid. The vaccine was made from his antibodies.”

Jean-Paul’s jaw drops. His floppy beagle ears lift straight off of his head, and the sight is so funny that Jack can barely keep himself from bursting out laughing. “Which friend? We can reverse the effects of the vaccine if we have the base!”

Now it’s Jack’s turn to gawk. He shakes himself out of his shocked stupor and leads Jean-Paul back out to the main waiting area, where the rest of the group is still waiting. He points out Gavin, and Jean-Paul instantly bounds over and starts staring intensely at him.

“You are sure, it is this one?”

“Yes.” Jack shoots Gavin an apologetic look as he’s practically dragged out of his seat.

“What’s- What the hell is going on?”

“We can cure the sickness! You are the base, we can cure the sickness!” Jean-Paul shouts. Gavin looks a little scared, but he covers the worry up with a smile.

“Let’s do it, then.”

And then Jean-Paul leads him away, and they’re left alone in the waiting room.

\--

The cure, they were told, would take about a week to be mass-produced and distributed around the country. In the meantime, everyone in their group (and every other healthy person found in the country) would be flown out to a refugee camp in the United Kingdoms. When things fell to shit in the US, the United Nations had an emergency meeting and most of the powerful countries volunteered to take care of various jobs. France was in charge of search and rescue, the UK was in charge of housing the healthy, Germany was supplying medical workers to make up for those that had fallen ill, Canada was shipping over medical supplies...

They were doing what they could.

It ended up taking a grand total of two months for the illness- Named Feliaplier’s Disease after the doctor that had created it- to be officially considered eradicated from the world. After spreading and administering the cure, most were able to make a full recovery. After the announcement that it was safe to return home, the official numbers began to leak.

85,347,000 people had died. Eighty five million, three hundred forty-seven thousand people, or twenty percent of the overall population of the United States, had been killed. There were too many bodies to keep track of, so that massive amount of people was left to float in documented limbo, fait eternally undecided.

Anyone that was involved with the decisions that stripped away human rights in the wake of the hybrid shift was dismissed. The UN managed to find enough qualified individuals to take the positions until actual elections could be held. All of the atrocities committed over those short few months were entered into the long process of being officially documented. Eventually, the refugees were given the all clear to go back.

Returning home was a very bizarre experience for many, but perhaps for none as much as Gavin Free.

Technically, he was leaving his home; he had been staying in his hometown with Ray for the duration of their stay, but it still felt like he was returning to his true home when he boarded the flight to Austin. He watched a shitty buddy cop comedy on the built in television while Ray played games on his DS.

Roosterteeth began producing content again. Miraculously, not a single staff member had been lost. New hires were made of Matt and Jeremy, who had both lost their jobs in the face of the disease. Achievement Hunter continued to grow, and their office shenanigans only became more complex. It took some time, but the lively energy that had once charged them through each recording began to pump through them all once more. Ray and Gavin remained much more subdued, however; after one week of stern looks from Griffon, Gavin had gone in and been officially diagnosed by and actual mind doctor with post-traumatic stress disorder, and this wasn’t an illness he could simply will away.

After several months of talking him through panic attacks and sitting with him no the bad days, Gavin managed to convince Ray to see a doctor about his own mental condition, and the verdict was the same. Lindsay declared herself their service dog and learned everything she could about what how to help them, and became an invaluable resource for both of them in the face of anything pertaining to their illness.

Time passed.

Days, weeks, months, years.

It never felt the same.

For many months, Gavin struggled to understand what exactly was missing; he knew it was something, but what the something actually was seemed to allude him. It finally hit him on an episode of the podcast, wherein he had fallen completely silent and stared blankly at the camera for three full minutes before they cut the feed to make sure he was alright.

A new channel was established: Living After.

The debut video was a simple shot of Gavin in front of a blank background, and it was several hours long.

In it, he described from beginning to end his experience with the whole shift.

From the butterfly to the filming of that very video.

The channel became an international sensation, and more members of RT were encouraged to sit down and share their stories, as well. In the summer of 2018, Ray finally sat down on the wooden stool and looked into the camera. It took him ten minutes to start talking, but when he did, he didn’t stop until his story was through. It was the longest on the channel, overtaking Gavin’s 3:08:26 with 4:55:35. For many people, including most of the achievement hunters, it was the first time they heard about what happened after they were separated at OHSU.

Ray was afraid that they would look at him differently, after. But they didn’t. And the burden was no longer a constant looming cloud of isolation; the whole world knew, and thought no less of him because of it. He still had bad times, of course, but they weren’t always so incapacitating anymore.

It wasn’t like before.

But that was okay.

They accepted, and they moved on.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the official end to this series.
> 
> And what. A. Ride.
> 
> Sorry this took so long to complete. Sometimes you really want to do something, but life just kind of bitch slaps you, and you have to pay attention to other things for much longer than you'd like to. It's been almost a year since I started this thing, and it has been quite a long ride for those who have been around for a while.
> 
> Thank you all so much for being patient with me. I really do appreciate it.


End file.
